


Nobody Else Sees

by Yesthatsmynaturalcolour



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 19:19:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4888918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yesthatsmynaturalcolour/pseuds/Yesthatsmynaturalcolour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joe groans, it’s fucking hot, and it’s three in the morning he’s going to shove Andy out of the bunk because he climbed into bed at around 2am and he wasn’t putting up with this shit tonight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nobody Else Sees

Joe groans, it’s fucking hot, and it’s three in the morning he’s going to shove Andy out of the bunk because he climbed into bed at around 2am and he wasn’t putting up with this shit tonight. Andy got up around 4 anyway he could lose any hour. “Fucking space heater.” He hisses, sitting up and rubbing his eyes, sleeping naked apparently hasn’t helped. Their air sucks balls and the coldest part of the bus is the drivers seat, and the back room. Which rotated on who slept where so only some of the nights were cool. Andy’s laying on his stomach, his arm tossed over Joe along with his leg. His face had been pressed into some part of Joe before he moved, most likely his shoulder or arm by how sweaty it was. Andy ran hot, they joked about it sometimes, but this felt disgusting, in the winter he welcomed it but right now he wanted to shove Andy as far away as possible. It takes him a second to realize Andy’s breathing is hard against him, soft pants. Like he’s been working out, only he hasn’t. Joe shifts more, the hand falling onto his thigh and he runs his fingers over Andy’s face concern washing over him. Because Andy’s hot, Joe’s hands are far from cold and Andy feels like he’s sticking his hands in the oven. He runs his hands over the other’s face feeling the heat and climbs out around him. All this movement would usually earn him some bitching and a foot to his ass, Andy doesn’t even move, flopping limply around as Joe moves him. 

He doesn’t even know if they own a thermometer, pulling on some sweat pants and punching the light to flood the rest of the bus in dim lighting. It’s almost 4 in the morning and Joe is weighing his options of going into the back room and waking Pete and Patrick for some help, or waiting until they wake to deal with it. Maybe….temperature first then he’d deal with the rest. It’s warm, overly so, maybe Andy’s giving off more heat than he’s actually internally. He finds their first aid kit, bright red and drawn on by Pete. Digging through it he finds there is a thermometer in the bottom, unopened and unused. He tugs it free of it’s packaging, pushing aside the curtains and climbing back into the bunk. It’s a little awkward to work into Andy’s mouth and keep it there, running his fingers over the curly bangs of the drummer nervously. It beeps, loud in the silent bus, and Joe nearly drops it. 

103.2 Holy shit. Nope. He’s stumbling out because he’s no doctor but they have no medicine, no way to bring this down but a tiny kind of shower that fit’s Bronx. On a good day maybe, and if the kid tries really hard. Andy needs...well something and Joe’s sure as hell not freaking out alone in the middle of the bus right now. 

He ignores the two in the bed, climbing in and hitting Pete in the arm. “Pete fuck please wake up.” He hisses, Pete groans, a growl in his throat and shoves Joe off the bed with his knee. Patrick’s making noises now angry little noises at being woken up to early and Joe doesn’t care. 

“The bus better be on fire it’s fucking…..4 in the morning Joe what the shit.” Pete hisses out, throwing his phone down on the floor with Joe.

“Something’s wrong, I need help.” The angry noises from Patrick stop, and Pete’s sitting up now. Because they fight, roll around on the ground, mess with one another but those words are not one’s said lightly. The tone of his voice alone should be enough clue to how distressed and panicked he is right now. 

“What happened? I thought you didn’t drink that much.” Pete slammed the light on climbing out of the bed and looking at Joe, sweatpants but otherwise okay. “Andy?” He whispered. Joe nodded, and Pete was moving over him, missing the wall barely and out into the hall of the bunks. Patrick was climbing out of bed as well, picking up Pete’s phone and helping Joe up. He was exhausted, you could see it, but concern overwhelmed it all. 

Pete was sitting in the bunk with Andy when they’d made their way out. Looking up when the two stood. “He’s….how high is it?” He mumbled Andy was shaking, curling towards the warmth Pete was giving off despite the hundred plus fever he had. Pete ran his hand up and down the others arm soothing noises like he was trying to calm a crying child. Andy made distressed noises in response, curls falling on his forehead and sticking there. 

“103, we have nothing to bring it down either so….I...I didn’t know what to do….” He choked out. Pete was whispering still, looking at Patrick. They’d be still a few hours out from any hospital or doctor. They hit the road when Joe climbed on the bus at 11. It be 5 hours back, or how ever many forward. Plus...maybe it was something….small maybe it was no big deal. Patrick rubbed his hands over Joe’s shoulders looking like he was trying to think of what to do. 

Pete was running his fingers through Andy’s hair, trying to be soothing as much as he could. Andy was fine a few hours ago, he played the drums like a mad man, laughing with Pete and Joe afterwards. Joe stole the guys flip flops and Andy acted like he cared running after him barefoot. They went and fetched him from the dressing room to get him off Old Republic and onto the bus so they could take off. He was fine. It wasn’t drugs they all knew that for sure, or drinking, or anything at all along those lines. So was he just sick suddenly? Did it develop overnight? Was he feeling like crap before and didn’t say anything?

Andy made a distressed noise in the back of his throat, like he was in pain and Pete pushed his bangs from his face wishing he could do more. Holding the shaking arms close to his body so he didn’t slam one of his arms into the side of the bunk. 

“Let’s get him into the back room it’s cooler.” Joe said softly startling the bass player out of his trance. Patrick grunted helping Pete up out of the bunk and giving him a look, a look saying they’d talk later. “I know he’s not really light but he’ll probably feel better in a room that isn’t 100 degrees as well….” Joe and Pete moved hauling the 150 pound drummer out of the bunk carefully, the dead weight was the real killer Andy was solid muscle packed into a tiny body but the two managed, Patrick opening the door for them and the lights dimmed so they could haul him into the bed with a little effort. Once he was settled into the bed Joe climbed up next to him, pushing his shaking arms close to his sides and whispering to him. Leaning down to kiss his forehead and close his eyes at the sheer heat given off. 

“I’ll get a wet towel, try and keep his face cool.” Patrick said softly, getting a careful nod he moved to do just that. Unspoken between them was whether to take Andy to the hospital or not, he was fine one minute and now this. People didn’t just get suddenly sick like this for no reason. Hospitals weren’t used lightly though, and all of them hated to bring Andy to one unless he was in dire need. For now they’d focus on bringing the fever down, and if it didn’t work, it didn’t work and they’d take him to a doctor. 

It comes to the four of them ending up in the bed together, trying to keep Andy from overheating next to them. They were a family, and one of their own was sick, and for pretty much no reason and it was scary, it was terrifying, and Andy was probably hurting, noises escaping him and cries like he was scared. Fevered dreams that probably terrified Andy and they couldn’t do anything but offer soothing words and whispers. They’d get medicine the next stop and hopefully it helped. 

Andy seemed to relax in the cooler room, with the towel on his face. Patrick got up every so often to refresh the water on it and keep it cool and Joe checked his temperature every once and awhile, making sure it didn’t rise any higher and ready to react if it did. It felt like hours, laying in the bed together everyone to high strung to really fall asleep. Pete had put some softer music on trying to get rid of the weird white noise silence of the bus and Andy’s breathing. Not too loud to disturb him but enough that everyone relaxed a little. Patrick finally spoke, the light coming in through the window and making Andy turn away to escape.

“What’s his temperature?” Joe leaned over, whispering to Andy and holding the thermometer for him for a moment before the beep and he pulled away.

“102.” He breathed, so he was down already one degree in the last two hours. “You two can go sleep in the bunks if you want...I’ll wake you if it spikes?” He felt bad keeping the two others up through all this but they shook their heads. Patrick fell asleep first, curled against Pete and Pete followed, flopped out with his fingers brushing against Andy who’d curled around Joe. Joe stayed awake through it all, watching Andy breath and soothing all the creases in his face away when they formed. 

He must of fallen asleep though, because he woke up to Pete getting out of the bed and going into the bathroom. Turning his head to look at the clock on the nightstand and seeing it was late afternoon, and the bus wasn’t moving meaning they were either getting gas or food. Pete left the room and Joe turned to Andy, he was still out, sweaty bangs still clinging to his forehead but he didn’t seem to be as hot as he was earlier. Sitting up he yawned, checking his temp again. 101, still a fever but no longer enough that he was worried they were going to need to detour to the nearest hospital. Patrick’s still out flopped over in the spot Pete use to be in and Joe lays back down. 

When he wakes again, the room is dimmer than it was before, and his stomach is complaining along with his bladder. Patrick and Pete are gone and Andy is still asleep. His temp is still 101 so Joe gets up, rewets the towel, and replaces it before going to the bathroom and leaving in search of food. 

“We gave him some medicine.” Patrick offers from the kitchen table. Joe stops his quest for food looking at him.

“I got some when the bus stopped a few hours ago, and managed to get him to take some despite not being awake….and don’t worry I read all the labels and made sure it was safe.” Pete offers. Joe nodded, he remembered Pete leaving but he fell back asleep before he could ask, picking up the bottle on the counter and looking at it. Normal fever reducer and overall good stuff, should help speed the process Andy’s body was already working on. He set it down digging some food out and shoving it in the microwave.

“Is his temp down?” Patrick asks from his spot looking up from his laptop, they figured since Joe came out calm and was even out of the room in general things were on the mend.

“It’s at 101, we’ll see how much more it goes down. He’s got three days to recover before we see about fill ins and stuff so hopefully he’s alright by then.” Joe hoped he was, this fever was so sudden and unexpected it scared them all so bad. Pete still didn’t look okay, probably wouldn’t be until him and Andy were teasing one another again.

Joe moved into the backroom climbing into the bed and relaxing. He’d grabbed his laptop on the way back and turned it on hooking his headphones up to watch a movie. He was about an hour into the shitty free movie he’d torrented about a week back when a hand bumped into his shoulder and he looked down. Andy was looking up at him, grey eyes confused, and exhausted. His hair was dry sticking up all directions and curling, the towel lost on the other side of the bed. He blinked up at Joe, still laying against the pillows and not moving all too much.

Joe pulled his headphones out hard enough to hurt and he almost threw his laptop down getting it out of the bed to turn to Andy. “Hey babe.” He whispered once he was settled. “How are you feeling?” Andy made a noise.

“Awful….what happened?” He croaked out coughing a little. “I...we were in the bunks.” Joe pushed his hair away from his forehead.

“You had a fever, 103.7, it almost hit 104 we were about to stop the bus and get you to a hospital but it went down and it’s steadily been going down.” Andy doesn’t seem to understand and it could be the fever still running through him so Joe just leans down and kisses his forehead again. 

“I wasn’t sick yesterday though.” Andy mumbles, eyes closed again. “You moved me to the back room?” He still doesn’t get how sick he was and Joe doesn’t really blame him. 

“You...we were going to take you to the emergency room Andy, we had to get you somewhere cooler and more comfortable than one of the bunks….” The drummer grunts turning his face into Joe and at least he was awake for a little while. 

He sleeps on and off for the rest of the day letting Joe or one of the other people in the band feed water and medication into him. Sometimes it takes two of them because he’s not very much awake or aware to do either the first night. The next day though his fever comes down during the day of driving, and Joe manages to get some type of food into him and he’s awake a lot more. Medication is easier to get into someone who's much more awake and awake. He watches a whole movie without falling asleep and even makes a joke at Pete. When they make it to the venue they are set to play at he’s not back to being a hundred percent but good enough to play and Joe could go his whole life never having to deal with this again.


End file.
